


bisquick birthdays

by starlight_sugar



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Domestic, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2014-03-19
Packaged: 2018-01-16 06:24:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1335328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlight_sugar/pseuds/starlight_sugar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Arryn's birthday. Kerry and Miles make her pancakes. Domesticity at its finest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	bisquick birthdays

**Author's Note:**

> written for rt rareship week (rtrsweek on tumblr).
> 
> Rooster Teeth does not have my permission to use any portion of my writing in their content. This fic was written prior to Arryn's request to not be shipped and remains unedited for the time being for archiving purposes.

“Kerry!”

Kerry does not move. Miles knows he’s awake, because he’s spent enough time around sleeping Kerry to know when he’s faking it. And today is simply not a day he can fake it.

“Kerryyyyy,” he whisper-whines, grabbing his boyfriend’s shoulder and shaking. “Kerry, c’mon!”

“Mmmmgrmph,” Kerry answers, which Miles roughly translates as “You’d better have a really good reason for this.”

“Kerry,” he tries one last time, “it’s Arryn’s birthday.”

It takes two seconds for Kerry to pop out of bed, blinking sleep out of his eyes and looking a little alarmed. “Oh, shit,” he mutters under his breath, glancing at Arryn’s sleeping form in panic. “Oh, shit. Pancakes.”

“Pancakes,” Miles confirms, and grabs Kerry’s hand. “Come on, she’s going to be awake in, like, fifteen minutes, we need to make birthday pancakes!”

“I still don’t get why that’s a thing,” Kerry says as Miles drags him into the kitchen. “Like, is that something you guys just started doing when you started dating, and now it’s a thing that we all do?”

Miles shrugs, going for the pantry and pulling out a box of Bisquick. “She did it for me, I did it for her, we did it for you, now you and I are doing it for her. Can you get a griddle?”

“That sounds ambiguous enough to be a sex thing.” Kerry pauses. There are sounds like pans clanking together, and Miles closes his eyes because he knows what’s coming next. “Which one is the griddle?”

“It’s really flat and wide.” Miles leans over, trying to see what Kerry has a hold of in the cabinet. “Yeah, that one.”

“Fuckin’ knew it,” Kerry says triumphantly. He begins pulling it out, moving other pots and pans in the cabinet to avoid making noise. Miles, somewhat satisfied that Kerry isn’t going to break anything, begins reading the Bisquick instructions.

“Milk and eggs,” he mutters. “We have milk and eggs, right?”

“Milk, yes,” Kerry confirms, holding the skillet proudly. “Eggs, I think so, check the fridge. What do we do with this?”

“Heat it to - it says 375 on here, so do that. And find the nonstick spray, or butter, or something, and spray it on once it’s hot enough. So we can flip ‘em.” Miles opens the fridge. There’s a carton of eggs, and he spares half a second to pray that there are eggs in it before he opens it. “Oh, hells yes.”

Kerry, whose hand is hovering dangerously close to the now-heating griddle, glances up. “Eggs?”

“Eggs,” Miles says, and pulls Kerry’s hand away. “No maiming yourself.”

“Wait, we own nonstick spray?” Kerry opens a cabinet confusedly. “This is why I let you and Arryn do all the cooking.”

“No,” Miles answers patiently, reaching around Kerry and grabbing a bowl. “This is why Arryn and I don’t let you cook.”

“Same difference.” Kerry opens a new cabinet. “I consider this my first foray into an exciting new world. Where I cook.”

“It’s a birthday miracle,” Miles deadpans, cracking an egg into his bowl, and another. “You wanna get the milk? I need a cup.”

Kerry nods - or at least, Miles assumes he nods, because he goes over to the fridge without saying another word. Miles is busy with a measuring cup and the box of pancake mix.

“Do you think that a cup and most of another cup is enough?” he asks, looking up at Kerry. “We’re almost out.”

Kerry shrugs, placing the quart of milk next to Miles. “Probably? It sounds like mostly enough.”

Miles decides he’s right and dumps the most-of-a-cup into the bowl with the eggs. “I’ll just put in most of a cup of milk, then.”

“Yeah.” Kerry is quiet for a moment, watching Miles pour the milk and find a fork to stir everything together with. “So hey, we’re out of Bisquick?”

“We are now,” Miles affirms, beginning to stir. Everything is a gloppy mess, but he’s pretty sure it’s the right kind of gloppy mess, unlike one time where he hadn’t realized that the milk had gone over. Arryn hadn’t eaten her birthday pancakes that time. Not that he could blame her.

“So what you’re saying is,” Kerry begins, and there’s something to his voice that makes Miles turn and look at him, and he’s got a shit-eating grin on his face and Miles knows, he just knows that this is about to end badly, “that you ain’t got no pancake mix?”

Miles stares at him, brow furrowing. “Dude, what is this, 2008? That joke is so old.”

“I had the chance and I took it,” Kerry says smugly, and, well, Miles can’t let him have that, so he launches himself forward, grabs Kerry’s face in both hands, and kisses him soundly.

“Eugh,” Kerry says a moment later, “morning breath.”

“Shut up and spray the pan.” Miles leans down and opens the cabinet below the sink. “See? Nonstick spray.”

“How the fuck,” Kerry mutters, but he gets the spray anyways. They work in silent tandem, Kerry spraying the pan and Miles preparing the pancake mix. “Ready to make some pancakes?”

“Yes, you are,” Miles says cheerfully. Before Kerry can protest, Miles has pulled him over and forced a spatula into his hand. “There you go, okay. Now, what you do is you take the bowl and you tip it - yup, just like that, make it niiiiiice and big and - there you go!”

“That’s a pancake?” Kerry says, staring at it. “I thought it’d be… more solid.”

Miles shakes his head. Kerry had allegedly helped Arryn make pancakes for Miles’s last birthday, but now he’s doubting the veracity of that. “How you’ve made it this far in life, I’ll never know.”

“Takeout and dating people who can cook,” Kerry says wisely. “So how do you know when to flip it?”

“Watch it. When there are little bubbles on the top, that’s when.”

“Did Arryn teach you this?”

Miles shakes his head. “No, uh, I actually did it for her first. Because I thought it’d be cute. I hate to wake up at, like, six, because I knew that was the only way I’d have enough time for trial and error. I also bought an industrial-size box of Bisquick.”

Kerry blinks. “They make those?”

“Costco is a magical place. Hey, see? Bubbles. C’mon.” Miles grabs Kerry’s spatula hand. “Now, you just stick it underneath - see how it comes up smooth, that means we did it right - aaaaaand flip!” The pancake lands gracefully batter-side down, with a light golden side facing them.

Kerry grins delightedly. “Pancake!”

“Pancake!” Miles answers, and they high-five, and it’s awesome. “Now just a few more.”

…

When Arryn wakes up, the first thing she notices is that there are two less people in bed than there normally are. The second thing she notices is that both of said people are standing on either side of the bed, looking proud.

“Happy birthday,” Kerry says brightly. Miles sets down a tray, and Kerry places a plate of pancakes and a glass of orange juice on top of that.

“Kerry learned to make pancakes today,” Miles says, obviously proud. Arryn can’t fault him that; Kerry cooking anything is worth being proud of.

She beams up at both of them. “You guys are the best.”

“You’re the one with pancakes,” Kerry points out, but he looks pretty self-satisfied. Arryn just grins all the more. She reaches up and pulls at his shoulder until he’s leaning down close enough to kiss, which is exactly what she does.

“Thank you,” she whispers in his ear as he pulls away.

Miles pouts, just like she knew he would. “What, no kiss for me?”

Arryn rolls her eyes. “Fine, one more kiss, but then I get pancakes.” Miles lights up immediately and leans down to kiss her. She lets him, but the second he pulls back, she makes a face. “Yuck. Morning breath.”

“That’s what I said,” Kerry tells her conspiratorially. “It’s pretty gross.”

“The grossest,” Arryn agrees, and Miles sticks his tongue out at both of them. Arryn smiles beatifically up at him and starts cutting into her pancakes. She’s lucky, she thinks absently, because she has two boyfriends - one who cooks for her and one who’ll learn, and two who’ll let her cook when she wants. It’s a pretty sweet deal, and she’s smiling as she takes the first bite.

They’re delicious. Like always.


End file.
